Saturday 26 March 2011

perempuanku #habis

Ibuku menitis dalam perempuan ini, Murni, datang apadaku dengan caranya yang purba untuk dunia post-mo. Ia bukan perempuan foedal, seperti potret putri-putri kerajaan jawa, bukan. Sudah kubilang, purba.

Ia kembali dengan caranya yang sederhana. Seperti kehidupan di masa komunal primitif. Bertahan hidup menggunakan cara dan peralatan sederhana. Bergotong royong. Kekayaan alam adalah milik bersama, tidak ada kapling-kapling tanah, harta atas nama pribadi. Seperti itulah kiranya manusia memperlakukan perempuan. Dari masa itulah ibuku lahir.

Murni, perempuan dihadapanku, perwujudan reikarnasi perempuan di zaman ibuku. Mencintai murni, menghargainya sebagai manusia komunal modern. Dirinya, jiwanya, tidak bisa dibeli dengan uang, dan menjadikannya sebagai barang simpanan, atau boneka yang dipamerkan di setiap jamuan makan malam.

a pray for nen di



Seolah langit runtuh saat kabar kematianmu tiba. Beta kira itu mimpi. Tidur lagi. Berharap mimpi berlanjut, kita bertemu lagi. Sedang kabar yang datang pada beta keliru belaka. Sampai-sampai beta punya saraf-saraf lupa cara mengeluarkan air mata.

Seperti ada rongga, semakin melebar dalam hati. Mungkin rasa cemas, gelisah, khawatir. Tapi lebih seperti rasa kehilangan.

“Sudah seng mau makan, mata terpejam melulu. Badanyya sudah tinggal tulang dibungkus kulit.”

Sebenarnya beta tidak mau dengar berita itu. Tiidak mau percaya. Tidak mau bersangka-sangka.

“Doakan dia...”

Benarkah secepat ini? Masih ada kisah yang seharusnya kita tuntaskan. Tentang buku cin, batu badaun, dan beberapa kisah-kisah nabi. Kau tau? Beta selalu membayang buku cin itu adalah dirimu, si moy cina.

Oh, nen e... falbe? Nen mkai tawar, ufangnan lii rek o.

Semoga kau tenang di sana.

Wednesday 23 March 2011

yang terbaik #3

Si gadis ingin segera menyudahi perang dingin yang melanda keluarganya. Ia sudah bosan melihat ulah laku kedua orang tuanya. Jika berpapasan, langsungsung membuang muka. Si gadis tahu, sekarang meski serumah, tapi sebenarnya mereka sudah lama pisah ranjang. Mami tetap tidur di kamar utama, sedang papi lebih sering menghabiskan waktu di ruang kerja. Ada kasur lipat, berjejalan dengan kaleng-kaleng cat, palate, dan kuas-kuas yang berserakan.

“Mereka dulu dijodohkan. Masih saudara jauh.” Kata neneknya suatu hari. Oh, ceritanya biar merekatkan kembali kedua belah pihak keluarga besar. Kalo begitu saat aku lahir, harusnya mereka sudah boleh berpisah. Kan, sudah ada aku.

Saat si gadis masih berumur enam tahun, orang tuanya bertengkar hebat. Meski tidak memecahkan gelas, melempar panci, menendang kursi, atau meninju cermin di kamar mandi seperti biasanya, namun pertengkaran inilah yang terhebat. Akumulasi dari sekian banyak pertengkaran kecil-besar. Mereka berdua hanya mengucapkan satu kata bersamaan, “cerai!!!”

Yang dipanggil gadis kecil sebagai papi lalu meninggalkan rumah. membawa serta travel bag kecil. Ia mengantar sampai ke depan pintu.

“Papi, sukses, ya! Jangan lupa oleh-oleh. Da-da, Papi....” ia melambaikan, senyumnya semakin lebar. “I love you, Papi.” Ia sangat senang melepas keberangkatan ayahnya.

Tiga hari kemudian ia dikejutkan dengan kedatangan keluarga besar mami dan papinya. Mbak Susi, adik ibunya, diminta untuk mengantarkan si gadis ke hotel tempat ayahnya menginap. Ia semakin terkaget-kaget.

“Kalian ini....” Opa Josep memandang anaknya, papi, tajam. Lalu berganti manatap menantunya. “Anak masih kecil, ingusan, udah main ditinggal, saja.”

“Benar itu. Tidak baik untuk perkembangannya.” pasti yang dimaksud Kakek Lim itu aku, batin si gadis. Orang mengira gadis yang duduk di pangkuan mbak susi itu tidak mengerti apa-apa. Sesungguhnya, dialah yang paling mengerti, bukan mereka.

“Pikirkan lagi, jangan melulu kepentingan kalian yang di utamakan.” Kelak ketika di dalam kamar ia mendengar ibunya berkata; huh, aku menikah juga karena kepentingan kalian, kan? Brengsek!

Sunday 20 March 2011

What is your decision?

Today, writing is not only a kind of hobbies anymore. There are many people out of there who study and start to write for some reasons. Some considered writing as a job. There are pencil-pushers write to fill the order. Others go on their own way; just because they are talented. Still others do it to share information, idea, and opinion, with an eye to create changes in the society.

Ayu Utami, Habiburrahman, and Andreas Harsono, write as if writing is their air to breath. Ayu write and challenge us to think critically over our life, thinking, spiritual, culture, and government. While Habiburrahman, it is a missionary endeavor way to bring people (esc. muslim) back to al Qur’an and sunnah. In the other hand, writing (journalism) is a belief/religion according to Andreas Harsono.

I am not a professional writer –paid for the works, nevertheless when I write I do it seriously. Not that I have an assignment to be submitted, but rather than that. For me writing not only means a medium to actualize our selves, but also a way to realize a mission of enlightenment.

In this world, many of the people just know what is white or black and forget that between these two colors there is a hollow space, grey. There always a mystery behind reality that they do not know –the grey hollow, so if you choose to be a writer, you should reveal it out. Take for example the separatist movement in West Papua. Indonesian might judge them as seditious band; in fact decades ago Indonesia forced them to be part of NKRI. Have you ever heard it before?

In a rather simpler way, what you write is what you are. Since now on the decision is in your hand; you will write due to assignment, money, or enlightenment.

A Is not (only) A

“May I borrow your veil?” Romlah asked to her friend.
“Which one?”
”biru (blue),” Romlah pointed to the veil which lied on the bed.
“Oh, please. That is green. Are you color blind?”

This dialog is not kind of narrative fiction. It happened to Romlah, a student from Madura with her friend in Malang. In Indonesian language, blue is biru-just the same with Java, and green is hijau. If you pay attention to Romlah or other Madurees when they pointed blue color, you will hear a sound seem the word biru. Biru in Madura language means both blue and green. To differentiate blue and green they use some additional word such as, biru lange’ for blue such as the sky, and biru deun for green such as the leaf.

Listen at a glance those two words are not different. If you gave ear to it, however, you will hear that the phoneme b of biru in Madura language is aspirated, according to the phonetic transcription, it is written as bhiru.

The case in which some people use some words of their mother language or first language in a conversation using national/formal language might befall to most of Indonesian people. As we know that our country consists of various ethnics who have their own language. From Sabang to merauke, Talaud to Timor, there were more 500 ethnics. Therefore sometimes a conversation in Indonesian language permeated by first language.

It means, Romlah is not color blind, but she brought Madura’s concept to Indonesian language. For your information, human have a dictionary in their mind, it is called mental lexicon. All words are stored here. The more you use the word, the easier you retrieve it (Dardjowidjojo: 2008).

What I want to share is not the differences between biru and bhiru, or how a linguist observes it. Rather than that, when the majority people said “it is a” and you say “it is b”, they will claim that you are wrong or crazy. Even if what you belief is right.

We should remember that Indonesia is a multi-lingual society. A response like saying color blind is very not resourcefully. Prof. Henry, a cultural observer, said that we should apply pluralism not only in daily interaction, but also in daily conversation. Acknowledging the multi-lingual society is the first step, because every society has own agreement. The convention of language of Madura is different from Java, Ambon, or Indonesian itself.

As Indonesian, it is a must to know it. If we can tolerate someone to use a foreign language –English for instance-to replace a word in Indonesian language, why do not we tolerate the using of ethnical language? A society should not force others to have the same manner as us or the majority. Be tolerant and understand other is a wise step.

It reminds me to Ahmadiyah’s case. If most people have defined what Islam like, while others people have a different point of view, they will be categorized as pathological group. Ahmadiyah in Indonesia is a minority group; they have been discriminated due to the fact that they are different. Say that they are a part of people who have gone astray according to Islamic law in majority version. On the other hand, destruct their homes and mosques are not illegitimate. So far, Indonesian citizen known with their religious tolerance, for instance between Moslem live together with Christian or Buddhist. So, why cannot Moslems tolerate Ahmadiyah?
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